weightless we must be
by jadeddiva
Summary: Killian Jones returns from Neverland to find that there is a new Dark One. This is the story of how he meets her.
1. one

These stories often start with a curse of some kind, and a princess, fair and lovely and usually golden-haired. This one is no different.

There is often a hero: someone brave and strong and true, someone who will break the curse, someone who will free the princess.

This is not one of those stories.

...

His boots, still covered with sand from Neverland, have barely touched the soil of the Enchanted Forest when he hears the news: the Dark One is dead, and there is a new one, some other fool who has assumed the title and the dark power that comes with it.

(It is not the homecoming he has wished for.)

Every man, woman, and child in the port city whispers about the death of Rumplestiltskin under his or her breath, speculating about when where why and how, spreading gossip and rumor about the new Dark One – female this time. Some say she's a wisp of a girl, others argue she is as strong as an ox. They wonder, in hushed tones, about her, and how she managed to kill the (supposedly) immortal Dark One.

"Witchcraft," says an old woman as Hook walks by, his shoulders heavy with the weight of years spent in the hot humid jungle, learning secrets for a task he will no longer perform.

"Cunning skill," says an old man as Hook purchases a room, pressing gold coin into the wrinkled palm.

"Dumb luck," says a young boy, clearing the tables in the tavern, and Hook is inclined to believe this last one is the truth (though he wonders if it is luck, and not something else instead).

…

He lingers in port, unsure because his purpose in life has now vanished like morning mist in the forest; he bears no ill will towards this new demon, has no desire to enact the vengeance befitting of her predecessor on her, for it is not her fault that his Milah is dead and gone. And so he finds that, without the pain and anger to hold onto, he is adrift, cast out to sea – lost.

It does not take long before he is found again.

There is a rumor that the new Dark One is the lost Princess, the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, kidnapped when she was but a young girl of seven and raised by the Evil Queen these past twelve years. There is a rumor that her parents are looking for someone to save her - someone who knows about the Dark One's power.

Someone like him.

(After all, it's not like he hadn't made his agenda known, time and time again. A vendetta is nothing without a little pageantry.)

It's not long until someone finds him, in a tavern, deep in his cups, and offers him passage to Snow White's palace _to talk_.

He rolls his eyes but finishes his drink anyway, allows the man ( _just a huntsman_ he says by way of introduction) to lead him to horses, which are saddled and ready. As he stands, he gives the small boy scrubbing the floors a few coins and tells him to run fast, to tell Smee to wait for him, that he won't be long, but as they set off down the dirt road through the forest, Hook knows that things can always change.

He does not expect to see his ship again.

(The thought is not a pleasant one.)

…

He refuses them, at first.

Hook returned from Neverland with poison – poison powerful enough to slay the Dark One (or so says Pan)– which he carries on his person at all times. After all, it's either that or the dagger, but there's not a single bone in his body that wants the power that comes with being the Dark One, not a single part of him eager to assume that title and the darkness that clings to it.

(It's not that he's unfamiliar with darkness – not at all. It's just that he's spent too many years wading about in the shallow pools of it, never fully submerged, staying close enough to shore to never be carried out to sea.)

But the princess looks despondent, and the prince brokenhearted, and he agrees to listen to their efforts to influence him. It doesn't hurt that there is a roof over his head and a soft mattress beneath it, and three square meals a day that he doesn't have to buy or barter for. He has nothing else to do, anyway.

It gives him time to think, and to learn.

Slowly, the prince and princess tell him the story of their daughter, stolen away by her grandmother ( _step_ grandmother, the princess interjects) when she was but a young thing of five, and lost to them forever. Twisted, corrupted into a thing of evil – a remorseless creature that bears no resemblance to their child. Killing Rumplestiltskin with the dagger was just the final act in a tragedy that had gone on for far too long.

"What exactly would you have me do?" Hook asks one evening, as they eat. The prince sighs, and the princess places her fork and knife on her plate.

"Bring her back to us," she says. "She was born capable of darkness – "

"And of goodness – " the prince adds, though his wife seems to ignore it.

"Bring her back to us, so that we can keep her here, away from others – away from those she might hurt, and those that would take advantage of her powers," Snow White tells him, and Hook can't help but fall back in his chair with a sharp laugh.

"She was stolen from you – " he begins to point out, but the prince and princess interrupt, one after another, with well-rehearsed lines that they must use to assuage the guilt of what their little girl has become.

"It was our fault – "

"We knew Regina was coming - "

"If we had only – "

"This time we have the means to keep her safe – from herself and from those around her." The prince's tone is severe, his blue eyes imploring, and beside him, the princess buries her face in her hands.

"Help us do this," the prince says. "Give us one last chance to protect our daughter."

From herself, Hook thinks, but he says nothing. He thinks about family, about Liam and Milah and the smell of salt water and sea breezes, and how he would do anything to see them again, if given the chance (he's just not sure what form that would take, and he wonders if he would act as the prince and princess intend, but he does not know).

His mind is made up.

"I'll bring your daughter home to you," he tells them.

He tells himself he's interested seeing the girl who bested Rumplestiltskin firsthand, when it took him years of looking, centuries trapped in Neverland working for Pan, before he was ready to attempt such a feat.

In truth, he doesn't know why. Maybe it was the tears that flecked Snow White's eyes, or the sadness etched deep in Prince Charming's face. Whatever the case, it's only when he's gone to bed that night, ready to depart at first light in the morning, that he realizes there is no reason, or no good one. A quick death or a slow one, a victory over evil or a defeat, there is no real reason that he agrees. He's sure he'll hate himself in the morning for agreeing to what will inevitably be his demise if his silver tongue fails him (it has in the past, occasionally, but tonight he watches the stars out the window, and gets reacquainted with the skies of the Enchanted Forest.

That morning, they receive news that the Dark One has laid waste to a village all due to a small insult, an innuendo about her power made by one of the men who did not cower at her feet. Breakfast is a somber affair, where the prince chews his food angrily, and the princess stares off into space.

"I knew those people," she says finally, gripping her fork. "They brought their trade here. Good men and women, hard-working and honest."

"Perhaps it is the darkness – " Killian offers, but the prince snaps back, "Not just the darkness. Not just that curse."

They sit in heavy silence, the prince's words hanging over their heads.

When Killian makes ready to leave, filling his saddlebags with bread and cheese from the castle, accepting a sword from the prince and a blessing from the Blue Fairy (he's heard about her from Tinkerbelle, so he accepts it with apprehension and a raised eyebrow), the princess approaches.

"Thank you," she says, pressing coin into his hand. "Thank you for freeing our daughter."

"Don't know that I'll succeed," he warns her, lest she gets her hopes up, but she shakes her head, smile shaky, eyes still wet with tears.

"You will," Snow White promises. "Heroes always do."

He doesn't have the heart to tell her that he is not the hero of this or any story - just a broken man with a broken heart that beats far too strongly for his liking, just a man who misses his love and his brother and the gentle rocking of the sea. He has long since given up the thought of a hero's journey, for there are no such thing as heroes in this world, just men and beasts and men who become beasts (and sometimes, he wonders which one he is).

The prince stops him as he mounts his horse, clutching the reins in his hands.

"Bring her back to us," he says, and then pauses before adding "alive or otherwise." He hands Hook the reins before heading back into the palace with his wife, suddenly leaving Hook with an uneasy feeling.

Perhaps, during his brief acquaintance with the prince and princess, he's learning a bit more about what sort of man he is, for the prince's words ring in his ears and he now knows that he is not bringing her back here, regardless of the coin, sword, or other things he's been given or may receive. A man must have lines he will not cross, and he will not murder a daughter to assuage a prince's guilt.

…

The Dark One is not in her castle.

The door opens easily, swinging silently inward on its hinges, welcoming him into the castle's imposing hall (he shivers, but does not know if it is a draft or the place itself that gives him goosebumps).

The castle is quiet – too quiet – as Hook steps from room to room, silent as a mouse, cautious and intent. Nothing in the East Wing looks touched, and everything – even an elaborate kitchen full of caldrons and ingredients he wishes to know nothing about – seems to be in its proper place.

That is what terrifies him more than the silence. It is as if the great rooms are lying, waiting, for their mistress to return (that the castle is a living, breathing entity is obvious to him - he can feel its heartbeats faintly as he walks across the marble floors).

The West Wing, however, is a different story, and that is where he finds her. Or, rather, she finds him, rushing out with teeth bared and sharp nails clawing at his face (he ducks, avoids her flailing arms, notices how weak she seems when he has to restrain her).

"And here I thought you were the Evil Queen," he sneers as Queen Regina falls back away from him, her black dress in tatters, her hair a rat's nest atop her head. "Perhaps _Mad Queen_ would be more suited to your current state?"

When she turns her gaze upon him, there is nothing but despair. There is no attempt to put up a different face, no attempt to hide her true feelings under a veneer of regality. Regina, the Evil Queen, is broken.

"She's not here," she says, voice gravely and rough, chin pointed slightly upward even as her shoulders fall back, defeated. "She's gone – trapped me here, with the same spells I used all those years ago to trap her in this very wing." Venom creeps into her tone, and Hook can gather that having your protégé turn on you is a terrible thing (as is kidnapping young princesses to mold into your image, but that's splitting hairs with someone like the queen).

She turns away and starts to walk back up the hallway, which is littered with broken furniture and china.. Hook knows that this woman, growing madder by the minute, is right. The Dark One is not here. She would have found him by now if she was.

 _Such a disappointment_ , he thinks, but he is surprised to find that he is slightly relieved. Despite his death wish, he did want to see one more sunrise (and perhaps one more sunset, and the sea - he does not want to die on land, where the mermaids can't claim his soul and take it down into the depths -)

"But this is her castle," Hook calls out to the queen's retreating figure. She stops, turns, and looks at him with such despair in her eyes that he suddenly rethinks his stupid urge to find the woman who stole his revenge from his grasp.

"This is _a_ castle," she points out softly. "If I were you, I'd look west, to the sea." She pauses, as if considering him closely. "She always did like the sea."

He turns to leave, but the Queen stops him with a glance. "She's not in her right mind, just so you know," she says, and Hook can practically see the syrup-y sweetness of the Queen's victory, dripping from every word. "She was already a conflicted girl before the curse but after killing the Dark One…"

"What do you mean, conflicted?" Hook asks, turning to face the woman completely. This is new information, and he has no idea what to expect.

"I mean," she says, taking a step away, "that as the product of true love, she was destined to be a hero or a villain. I merely taught her how to take what she wanted instead of asking politely." She shrugs, as if it is nothing to kidnap a young girl, "but that goodness just kept shining through. She fought with it - the power that comes with taking what you want instead of waiting, …" she trails off, and Hook steps forward.

"And?"

The Evil Queen smiles maniacally. "I guess you'll just have to see for yourself."


	2. two

There is a castle on a cliff, high above the small coastal town that cowers in its shadow, and it is unlike anything that Killian has seen before. Fierce and foreboding, tall towers suspended above the waves, it is a fitting home for a dark creature.

Or at least that is what every soul he found on his quest claimed.

"In the large castle by the Northern Sea," say the fishermen of the Wayward River, "where the wind is so harsh it sounds like the souls of the damned. We know this because the fish now swim south, into our large nets."

"In the palace perched high above the water," say the farmers in their golden fields, "with walls that gleam in the morning sun. We know this because our kin have fled the town below, fearing for their lives."

"In the fortress above the rocks," say the tradesmen, "above the town where ships from Southern Isles arrive every Tuesday" (he does not ask how they know this; after all, living in the Dark One's shadow must be bad for trade).

The people of the town swear that she is here, that she has been at the castle for several weeks. She has not bothered the town, but the sounds they hear (the barmaid whose heaving bosoms he is becoming quite acquainted with shudders at the thought) could wake the dead/kill a man/really, the list of ways that the sounds could harm the town goes on and on (quite imaginative, the townspeople).

He takes the maid to bed, and he tells himself it because he could be dead in the morning, that he must lose himself in her warmth, but it is not satisfying (she is not Milah). Afterwards, she sleeps soundly in the sheets of his rented bed while he stands at the window, staring out at the castle. The streets below are deserted - presumably due to fear of the Dark One - and so he opens the window slowly, hoping to hear the wretched sounds that they fear so much.

All he hears is the wind.

It is only later, as he tries to fall back asleep, that he wonders if he heard screams as well.

…

He practices what he will say on the way to the castle.

He considers starting off with something along the lines of a formal greeting, moving into inquiring about her health and praising her skill at slaying the Crocodile (though he wonders if she will have a scaly appearance too, like her predecessor). He will slowly, gently, ease his way into discussing her parents' desire to have her safe and her potential imprisonment, which he does not expect to go well (he will not mention her father's hinted suggestion to have her done away with unless he truly must).

Like everything else thus far, it does not go as planned.

The way to the castle is steep, and he falters occasionally, digging his hook into the rocky soil time and time again to steady himself. It is only after he has progressed halfway up the hill, and the castle no closer to him than before, that he realizes what's happening.

He stops, sits on the side of the path, and waits for her.

He waits for what he guesses must be hours - the shadows grow shorter, and he sheds his coat in the heat of the midday sun - until finally she arrives, appearing before him out of thin air.

She is nothing like Hook thought she would be.

She is no wisp of a thing, nor is she as strong as an ox, but her green eyes are cold and her mouth narrow as she studies him. He studies her in return, and he can see the resemblance of her mother in the eyes and shape of her mouth, her father in the nose and the way she carries herself. There is a faint scaly sheen to her skin, less so than the Crocodile - instead, she seems to glow from within, her golden hair blazing in the sun, making him squint to look at her. She wears black leather, like him, but unlike him she is clearly not affected by the heat of the day.

She is the most terrifying and beautiful creature he's ever seen.

"Nice trick," he remarks.

"Not a trick," she tells him defensively, and he rises.

"Apologies, oh Dark One," he says with a flourish of his hand as he bows. "Captain Killian Jones, but most people know me by my more colorful moniker – "

"Hook." He glances up with a smile that is carefully crafted to throw women off guard (not that it will work with her, he fears, but he will try anything once).

"So you've heard of me," he asks, and she smirks in return (it is a cruel smirk, one that he's seen before on the Evil Queen's face).

"Please…" she says, as she gestures to his left hand.

"Fair enough," he responds, reaching down to grab his jacket. All of his carefully crafted words fly out of his head as he quickly rethinks his strategy, considers where to go next. He smiles.

"Well, I can see that you're busy and I hardly wish to take up the time of someone as exalted as you, but I'm afraid that I have some ill news. Your life is in danger."

The Dark One sneers. "Who would possibly challenge me?" she asks.

Hook takes a deep breath before the plunge.

"Your parents."

…

Just as easily as she arrived by his side, so too does the Dark One bring him with her into her castle. He blinks, and they are there, in a large room full of wide windows and doors that open onto terraces which overlook the sea (he inhales deeply, enjoying the scent of salt air that he so missed during his time on land).

The Dark One leaves him to his ruminations, striding across the room soundlessly. She stops before a large table, where a carafe sits with goblets. She pours herself a glass (crystal) of some sort of red liquid. As she pours, she speaks (he notices that she does not offer him one).

"I don't know that I can trust you."

"I would hardly expect you to, so soon in our relationship," he comments, spotting an armchair with silver brocade near the doorway. He sits down, crosses his legs, and waits for her to respond.

She doesn't. Instead, she takes a sip of her drink, slowly, and he supposes that she's trying to create an air of mystery and tension (he so hates to disappoint her, but he exhales slowly, waiting).

They play this game for some time until he finally huffs, more annoyed than wary. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, digs the tip of his hook into the wooden arm of the chair.

"Your parents want you dead." Hook watches for any response – he expects none, to be honest – so when her hand clenches around the crystal goblet, he knows that he has hit a nerve.

"I don't have any parents," she replies, regaining her composure before turning towards him.

"Actually, you do – Snow White and Prince Charming, in case you forgot," he points out, fingertip tapping against the chair's arm. He is deliberately not looking at her, waiting to see what she will do, and what she does is _move._ Within the blink of an eye, he is being pulled up by her hand in his chest, fist clenched around his still-beating heart.

"They are not my parents," she tells him, voice high and trembling, "cowardly, weak-willed, unfit to rule – " she starts to say, but she tapers off, digs her nails in further, and he wants to scream, to yell, but he just grits his teeth. He cannot react. If he reacts with her, here, now, she will win, and he will die, and now faced with death's cleansing embrace…no. Not now. _Not yet._

Instead, he watches her shake in anger and in something else - something that is not quite fear, but still surprising, and he remembers the Evil Queen's words, wonders if this is what madness looks like up close.

He cannot bear to look at it any longer.

"Well, from a certain point of view," he grunts out, watching (surprised) as she lets go, takes a step back, then another, until she retreats across the room towards the door that faces the sea. Her skin, so pale and luminous, shines in the sun, and he squints his eyes and looks away.

"They sent you to kill me." When he returns his gaze, she is still facing the water but he can tell from the rigid line of her shoulders that she is affected by his words, that what he has told her makes her feel something (but what it is, exactly, is a truth he can't discern. Yet).

"Well, I believe their words were more to bring you to them, 'alive or otherwise'," Hook admits, "but I find that I'm hardly committed to their position, now that I've met the illustrious Dark One." He tries to choose his words carefully, to buy another minute, another hour, for when faced with certain death, he finds he no longer desires it.

It was a foolish plan, coming here.

"Why you? Are you a mercenary?" She turns so that she can look at him, and even though he can see her try to keep her features calm, there is a touch of devastation around her eyes that he finds confusing, and so he shakes his head, allows his lips to curve upwards in a smile.

"Pirate." He grins cheekily, and she seems to take this as an insult.

"That doesn't explain why they chose you," she spits out, and it takes all of Hook's self-control to not reply with something that would cost him his tongue.

"Let's just say that I had a bit of a disagreement with some of the methods of the previous Dark One."

"Meaning – "

"Meaning he killed the woman I loved, and I found a way to avenge her death."

Her mouth quivers just barely and Hook remembers that she may be the Dark One but she is still young and may not really know the depth of her powers, not like her predecessor. But this show of weakness does not last long, and her eyes are cold once more.

"You're not leaving here."

"I hardly expected to."

That is when she smiles, the sick and twisted one that she learned from her captor. That is when his blood runs cold.

"Good."

…

He is given a room in a high tower (it is obvious that if he jumps, he will drown in the sea or his body will be broken apart on the rocks below, but he has no intention of jumping). She tells him, as she leaves, that she isn't sure what to do with him yet.

"If you're telling the truth," the Dark One says, "then you may be of use to me. And if you're lying…"

"Then the sharks will eat well tonight," Hook remarks.

She studies him - really studies, him, looking him up and down before reaching for the door handle. "Goodnight, Hook. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."

She doesn't.

He sits in the window, watching the sea, until she returns, wearing red, her golden curls falling around her shoulders and maybe, just maybe, if he squints, she may not look like a monster (in the darkness of the castle she still glows in the candlelight, more diamond than gold, and it is awesome and terrifying at once). She does not sit, merely paces the outer corners of the room, keeping her distance. It reminds him of a beast in the wild stalking its prey - an apt comparison as her nails click against the stone, and her heels click against the floor.

"After today, I will give you free reign of the castle while I determine if I can trust what you said about Snow White and Prince Charming's intentions," she says, sneering as she stumbles over her parents' names. She does not look at him. "You may come and go in the rooms as you please, but you may not go in the highest tower nor the lowest dungeon, and you may not leave the walls of the castle grounds."

"So you intend to keep me?" he asks, thinking about the view from the tower, about the salt air and the sun and the stars. It would be a safe life, and not a bad life, but he is too old to be trapped in a tower. As much as he thought he wanted death - welcomed it, in fact - with each passing day since he started this foolish exercise, he realizes that he has not yet truly lived. There are things he still wishes to do - places to explore, women to bed, food to eat, treasures to plunder. This cannot be the end of his story.

But, perhaps, it is meant to be the beginning.

The Dark One smiles then, sending a shiver down his spine (there is something gruesome in that smile, something so like Pan in its childlike aggression that he looks away). "I certainly can't let you go, can I? You were clever enough to find me - what if you brought others to my home? And you claim to have found a way to impose vengeance on my predecessor – what if you thought you would try to slay me?"

Hook shakes his head. "I have no desire to kill you. I only came here out of curiosity."

The Dark One raises an eyebrow. "And you simply agreed to aid those idiots with the full knowledge that you may not complete your quest?"

Hook smiles and shrugs, "Pirate."

She furrows her brow in a way that is almost childish. "I have never met a pirate before - is this the behavior of your kind?"

Her line of questioning takes Hook back, and he shrugs again. "It is for me," is the only thing he can think of to say in response.

She nods, clearly letting his words sink in. "I see." She tilts her head to the side, studies him for a moment, and it is in those seconds that Hook sees a different side of her - someone young, someone taken from her family and raised by a stranger, someone who may not fully grasp the implications of the power she has absorbed. But it is gone in a flash once she catches him looking, and she is out of the chair and by the door before he can blink.

"Remember," she warns, "not the highest tower nor the lowest dungeon."

"And not to leave the castle walls. I understand." Hook nods, and she gives him one more lingering look, the fading light casting shadows across her features.

"And if you disobey me," she reminds me him as she closes the door, "I'll kill you in the morning."

…

This is the point in the story where a storyteller will pause, and remind the reader with a look, or a slow page turn, that it is customary for a hero to be tested.

But, if you remember what was said at the beginning, this is a story without a hero.


	3. three

The next morning, the door opens a sliver, and then an inch, swinging forward of its own accord, allowing Hook to leave his tower room and visit other parts of the castle. And so he does, traveling top to bottom and making a cursory survey of the place, noting the exits and entrances.

All throughout the castle, he has seen signs of life that surprise him, for he thought the Dark One managed this castle through strength of will and magic alone. And yet, no - here a skirt swishes around a corner, there another maid scurries away like a roach faced with the light, everywhere there are people who inhabit these same walls as he does (well, not exactly like him - he assumes he will have to return to his cell at night, after all).

The castle itself is beautiful - there is a large courtyard whose stone walls echo with the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below, and plenty of balconies and terraces where he may view the sea. But within several hours, he is bored, and so he seeks out company.

By evening, he has found his way into the kitchens, where a thin young girl feeds the massive fire over which a large cast iron pot hovers untethered (this is proof of the Dark One's magic at work). Her dark hair is dirty, and pulled away from her thin face, but she still smiles at him when he approaches before hurrying to fetch him a bowl.

"Stew, m'lord?" she asks, and Hook nods as he sits down at the long table that takes up half of the room (the servants must eat here, he thinks, though he wonders where any of them are). He watches as she carefully gives him some stew, watches her take an appreciative sniff as she hands it to him.

She brings over a loaf of bread and a knife, and sets about cutting thick slices, then adds a crock of butter to the table. He catches the way that she licks her lips as she turns away.

"Would you care to join me, miss?" he asks, grabbing a piece of bread and placing it beside his bowl. The girl shakes her head then grabs a broom nearby and busies herself with sweeping (but he knows idle labor when he sees it, knows that she is working just to prevent herself from engaging with him more).

"I'm quite lonely, eating all by myself," he says, bringing out the flirtatious charm he keeps for a rainy day, but again she ignores him, and so he wonders. Does she have enough to eat? She reminds him of the orphans he sees on the docks (a position he knows intimately) and so he tries once, twice, three times more to engage her in conversation, to have her sit down. He asks about her family (none), her time here (just arrived), and then he finally gives up.

"Look, I know you're hungry," he says, with phantom hunger pains from long ago lingering in his gut, "and I can't eat this alone."

"I can't," she tells him, "the mistress says I may not."

The Dark One. Killian purses his lips. If he forces her to eat, she disobeys her direct orders and may be punished. If he doesn't feed her, he's not sure she'll finish her chores for the day - she looks damn near ready to fall over from fatigue.

He looks down at the bowl of stew once more, then picks up his spoon and takes a few sips. He picks at his bread, grabs the heel of the loaf, and picks at it some more, making more of a mess than anything else, but when he is done there is enough food on the table to fill the belly of the young servant (his own belly is not quite as full, but he has gone days without eating and this is nothing).

"I'm quite finished," he tells her after making a show of eating. "Does your mistress let food go to waste?"

The girl's eyes are as big as saucers as she studies the food covering the table, and then, hesitates, before shaking her head.

"It shall be our little secret then," he tells her, giving her a small bow as he exits.

He waits for the Dark One to appear to him as she does every night, but the sun has set and the star are out before there is a knock on the door. Hook frowns - she is never that polite - and when he goes to open it, he is not surprised to see the servant girl on the other side.

He is surprised to see her eyes wide eyes and trembling lip - but not at all surprised to see the claws that dig into her neck, preventing her from moving.

"You thought to help her."

Behind the girl is the Dark One, her voice a low growl, her eyes burning bright in the darkness, and he tries to clamp down the fear that surges through him, replacing it with righteous indignation.

"Was that, in the kitchen - was that a test?" he asks angrily, and the Dark One smiles, haughty like that evil bitch he found trapped in her abandoned castle.

"The first of many," she tells him, and frustration surges throughout his body.

"What good was it to give me freedom of the castle then prevent me from helping? What did you seek to learn about me through that?" he asks, feeling outraged at being so manipulated. He should never have come here. He should have told the prince and princess no -

"Do not forget that this is my home and you are only a guest," the Dark One says, letting going of the servant girl (he hears her running down the hallway and once he knows that she is gone, he continues to speak his mind).

"Have you ever wanted for food? Have you ever heard your belly growl night after night? Have you ever stolen from the grocer or the baker and made that theft last a week?" he rants, watching her eyes go wide. "Have you been so hungry you thought you may die? I have, and that girl was starving, and I do not care if you must take it out on me - at least she ate."

She inhales sharply. "Do not presume to tell me how to run my household!"

On the final word, a wave of magic hits him and slams him into the wall.

That is all he remembers.

He does not regain consciousness until sometime in the middle of the night. The stars are out as he pulls himself up, sits shakily on his bed. He can feel the welt above his right ear, can feel the dull hunger cramps that fill his stomach.

He should never have come here. He was a fool to do so.

…

He does not sleep that night but chooses to watch the stars as they fade from the sky. His diligence is rewarded by a knock on the door before the sun has made its way up from the horizon.

The door opens of its own accord and Hook is (extremely) surprised to find the Dark One standing there. She holds a plate of food - bread, and jam, and some sausage and cheese - and his stomach growls when he smells it. And yet he does not approach her.

"Is this another one of your games?" he asks, not moving from his seat by the window, and she shakes her head. There is a look of contrition on her face, and it is so alien from what he has come to expect that he is taken caught off guard by it.

"Consider this an apology for my behavior last night," she tells him, taking a step closer and placing the plate on the table. She steps back until she is against the stone wall, and she waits.

Hook crosses the room in three short strides, sniffing the plate ( _I'll most likely kill you in the morning_ ) before determining that if there is poison he cannot smell or taste it, and if there isn't then he's wasted perfectly good food.

He takes a bite of bread.

The Dark One says nothing as he eats, and he takes the opportunity to study her - really study here, from the skin that sparkles even without direct sunlight (he remembers the Crocodile, all scales and a golden sheen, and yet this is different - skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood). Her blonde hair falls in a braid down her left shoulder, and she does not wear the dark leathers she's worn so far, instead dressed in a tunic and breeches in muted greys. This morning, she does not look like the Dark One; she looks like a woman, or a reasonable facsimile of one.

It's different, to say the least.

"I'm sorry for last night," she tells him, and he can hear the sincerity in her words. She is truly sorry, and he is taken aback by it. "Is your head -?"

"I'll live." He swallows some cheese, then, "if I may be so bold as to ask what changed your mind?"

She frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Last night you were adamant your rules should be followed. This morning you apologize for punishing my disobedience…" he lets his question linger in the air between them as he takes another bite of bread.

"What you said, about the orphans," she starts, playing with the sleeve of her shirt. "You were right - I've never known that kind of hunger. I've never thought that I might die from something as trivial as hunger - other things, yes, but never food." She closes her mouth once she says this, eyes wide, and looks almost frightened.

He does not think it's possible to be more surprised, yet the feeling keeps growing. He swallows quickly, nods his head in response. "I see."

This is not the Dark One who found him on the road to her castle. This is not the creature who established her power through force or who retaliated when she thought she was disobeyed. This is not a creature at all, but a young woman - a girl, practically - who grows more and more nervous by the minute (is it the hook?). Perhaps he should say something.

He rises. "Look, I - "

But she is gone in the blink of an eye, the half-eaten plate of food the sole reminder that the conversation ever happened.

…

The next day, he meets Robin.

Hook spends his time wandering the castle, paying careful attention to the twists and turns. He sees the serving maid again but she runs away before he can greet her, and so he ends up once more in the large courtyard. From there, he spots the small winding path to the small winding gardens, perched high above the sea.

He is seated on a bench that is surrounded by roses and overlooking the water, when he meets the garden's caretaker.

"I heard we had a guest," the other man says by way of introduction, taking off well-worn gloves and extending a hand towards Hook. "Robin. I manage the grounds."

"Killian Jones," he responds, shaking his hand. "Guest of the Dark One."

A look crosses Robin's face, and his eyebrows meet his hairline. "Aren't we all," he muses before letting go of Hook's hand.

The two men talk briefly before Robin returns to work, and Hook learns that there are a few other servants here but not many, that Robin has been brought from the other castle, and that what the Dark One said about the highest tower and the lowest dungeon was true.

When Robin leaves, there is a strange taste in the back of Hook's mouth, and the uneasy feeling of being watched that makes his flesh crawl. He returns to his bench, and watches the sea until sunset, but it does little to ease the turbulent emotions in his soul.

…

That night is the first night he hears the screaming.

He wonders if he has merely missed it all other nights - perhaps he has slept too soundly (perhaps it was the head wound?). On that night he cannot tell where it is coming from, only that it seems to resonate through the entire castle, through the walls and into his bones, and he cannot sleep.

…

"I heard screaming the other night."

Hook is sitting with Robin as he works, occasionally lending help where he can (there is little for a one-handed man to do in a garden as beautiful as the Dark One's, few improvements he can make without the gentle touch of two hands and ten fingers). It is better than being alone.

Since her bizarre admission, he has not seen the Dark One. Robin tells him that she is traveling, summoned by those supplicants who want her dark and awesome power. It has only been a few days since he heard the screams, not even a week since his arrival here, but the sound haunts his waking thoughts and it is only when he rises each morning after a full night's sleep that he realizes she is not there.

Robin sighs, using his hands to trim some leaves from a rose. "There are always screams when she is here," he says after a long silence. "They started when she became the Dark One."

"You've known her for some time," Hook presses, curious as to why she screams.

Robin looks up at the sky, squints into the sun. "It may storm tomorrow. Will you pass me those scissors? These blooms should not be wasted."

The next day, he asks more questions while they are in the small orchard. "How did she become the Dark One?"

"She made a foolish error," is all that Robin will say. "Would you pass me that basket? These cherries are ripe."

On the third day, he is with Robin in the kitchen, drinking ale and watching as the rain pours down onto the courtyard and the water below. The Dark One returned last night, for there was screaming again, loud enough to wake the dead.

It is not just the screams that are threatening to do him in, but rather the waiting. He has not seen her for days, does not know if the food the servants bring him is poison so he chooses to eat with her servants, hoping that she will not kill them all. He still does not understand her erratic behavior of the other day (why apologize, when you're the Dark One? What good would that serve?)

"Does it come from the highest tower or the lowest dungeon?" Hook asks, the sound rattling around inside his skull.

"Your tankard is nearly empty, my friend. Pass it to me so that I may get you more," is Robin's only response. It is obvious he will not talk about the Dark One, at least not her screams or how she came to be what she is (a lost princess, subject to the machinations of darkness and the miscalculations of a twisted queen) so he chooses a different line of inquiry.

"She came to my room a few days back and apologized," he says.

This surprises Robin, who nearly drops the tankard before catching himself. "I see," is all the other man can say, and Hook does not press. He takes another sip of ale, and a bite of bread, and he waits.

"Apologized…" Robin lets the word trail off, as if mulling over the sound of it before staring into his tankard, deep in thought. He finally sighs, and raises his eyebrows before remarking, "I'm glad to hear of it," and taking a drink.

"Why?" Hook presses, desperate to understand what has kept him awake at night (other than the screaming, of course).

Robin stares deep into his cup before finally raising his eyes to meet Killian. "It tells me that there is still hope for her yet."

"She's the Dark One," Hook points out, but Robin shakes his head, swallows.

"I still see her as Emma, the little lost princess from the castle. Greedy, perhaps, and too easy to claim what she wanted, but without a mean bone her body. She would never hurt anyone. Not until…"

There is a clap of thunder outside, and the castle shakes, and Robin finishes his ale. "I should say no more. See you at supper?"

Hook nods, watching as the other man scurries away, looking frightened. He mulls over the information wetting his lips and saying the name aloud. Even in his dealings with the princess and princess - even in his meeting with the queen - no one said her name.

" _Emma_."


End file.
